


Passion's a Prison

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-20
Updated: 2010-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney held up a large hunting knife, repeating, "I don't have to untie you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passion's a Prison

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink_bingo. Prompt was knifeplay. Please note prompt - this could be potentially triggering! This could be interpreted as dubious consent.

John swam up out of sleep, confused and lost. For a long moment, he wasn't sure where he was, so he didn't open his eyes. But Rodney said, "I know you're awake," and he relaxed. Rodney wouldn't give him away if there were any danger.

He tried to sit up, only to discover that his hands were tied down. He tugged ineffectually, but got nowhere. Struggling, he discovered that his ankles were tied as well. "Rodney?"

Rodney sat down on the edge of the bed, letting one hand come to rest on John's knee. He could feel the heat through his pants, and wait a minute. He didn't remember going to bed dressed. He lifted his head and looked down his body.

Jeans, t-shirt, and now he remembered. Coming back to Earth to give his reports, the bet with Mitchell, the _beer_...

"How much did I have to drink last night?" he asked, boggled that he doesn't have a hangover.

"Enough that I was able to tie you up. And you can thank me for the lack of hangover, too. Getting you to drink water when you're trashed is a pain in the ass."

John was sure that it was, but there's a much more important part of that statement that he was focused on. "And why am I tied up?" He was not going to panic. He really wasn't. Just because Rodney and he had never played these sorts of games before...

But there were some really scary holes in his memory. God only knew what he told Rodney last night.

"Apparently, getting you to talk is a matter of feeding you enough alcohol," Rodney said, confirming his suspicions that he'd said something he really shouldn't have. "Don't worry, though, you'll enjoy the results."

John yanked on the rope binding him to the bed. "Let me go, Rodney," he growled, trying to intimidate him into giving in.

This is Rodney, though, and he has _never_ given in to John. "'Fraid not," he said. "I have _plans_."

Looking down at his clothes again, John concentrated on not giving in to the want that's pulsing through his body. "You're gonna have trouble doing _anything_ , since you tied me up still dressed. And when you untie me to get me naked, I'm not going to hold still to let you tie me back up."

"I don't have to untie you," Rodney said smugly.

Rolling his eyes, John said, "Then this will be the most boring bondage scene ever, and when you eventually untie me, I'll kick your ass."

Rodney held up a large hunting knife, repeating, "I don't have to untie you."

John couldn't help but panic, because this meant he told Rodney things he's never told _anyone_ and he started to struggle, pulling mindlessly at the rope binding his wrists and ankles. "Let me go," he snarled, jerking hard enough that he knew he was bruising his wrists. He didn't care.

But instead of untying him, Rodney sat the knife down and shifted on the bed, straddling his thighs and pressing his shoulders back onto the bed. "Calm down," he ordered. "If you can tell me calmly why you don't want me to give you what you asked for, I'll stop, but I'm not going to stop just because you're scared you've given something away."

Taking a deep breath, John tried to force himself to relax, and then he took another. Calmer, though still upset, he says, "C'mon, Rodney. Untie me and I'll blow you. Wouldn't you rather do that?"

"Not really." Rodney slid off of John, picking the knife back up. John couldn't help tensing up again. "You want this, John," Rodney said. "From what you said, you've wanted this for years and have always been too afraid to ask for it."

Stung, John said, "I'm not afraid."

"Yes, actually you are," Rodney said. "You're afraid that I'll see how much you like being tied up and used, and that thought scares you to death."

John couldn't stop the small whimper that broke loose at the thought of that. He didn't want to admit it, but Rodney's right. He did want it.

Rodney was watching his face carefully, and he must have seen something there, some sort of surrender or relaxation, because he smiled. Hefting the knife, he lifted the front of John's t-shirt.

The feel of cool metal as the knife blade slides under the material made John suck in a sudden breath. He knew just how sharp that knife was, and the kind of control that Rodney had better have or his chest and stomach were going to be cut to ribbons.

There's a small jerk, and then the knife is cutting through the material with a purr. The knife sliced it right up the front of his chest in one long cut, all the way to the neckband. John closes his eyes as the knife moves up under his chin to cut the band, leaving the shirtsleeves still on but his chest bare.

"Have I mentioned lately how lucky I think I am?" Rodney said softly. "You are so _hot_ , but more than that, you're smart, and you're _mine_. Open your eyes!"

John shook his head no. There was not a chance in hell that he was going to look at Rodney right now, because everything he felt and was would show. Then he felt cool metal pressing against his nipple, and his eyes flew open against his will.

"I said, look at me," Rodney growled.

"I'm looking," John said a little desperately. "I don't want anyone getting hurt."

"Not quite," Rodney said. "You'd probably love it if my hand slipped, just a little, just enough to leave a little cut. But you won't ever admit it, will you?"

John's stomach clenched tight in sudden fear. What _had_ he told Rodney last night?

Before he could formulate a question, to try and figure out how much damage he did, Rodney moved the knife, dragging lightly across his sternum. He put just enough pressure that the knife blade stung without crossing the line into true pain. A moan broke loose from John before he could stop it.

This... this was everything that he'd ever wanted and always been afraid to ask for. A fine sweat was breaking out on his skin, causing the scratches to sting even more. John was hard inside his jeans, and the discomfort just added to everything else he was feeling. He wanted to close his eyes, lose himself in sensation, but Rodney had demanded that he keep his eyes open and he didn't want to disobey.

Rodney was showing incredible control, a fact that shouldn't have surprised John, because he'd seen him wiring bombs and Ancient devices. Even so, John could barely breathe, for fear that movement might cause Rodney to cut him. And while Rodney was right - he wouldn't mind a few small cuts - he didn't want Rodney to _stop_.

Chuckling lewdly, Rodney reversed his grip on the knife. This time, the knife was pulled down, over John's stomach. It only stopped when it reached the waistband of John's jeans.

"Are you going to be good?" Rodney asked. "Can I take your pants off, or do I need to cut them off?"

John was tempted to tell him to cut them off, but he only owned two pairs of jeans, and he didn't think he'd have time to replace them before they had to go back to Atlantis. "No, don't cut them off. I'll be good," he said.

He studied John's face for a long moment before he slid off, setting the knife down on the nightstand with a decisive click. He kept an eye on John's face as his hands were busy at John's waist, undoing his fly, and John had to restrain the urge to laugh. Rodney had actually learned from all those lessons with Ronon after all - he was keeping an eye on John's face to see if he was going to telegraph an intention to struggle.

But John had no intention of struggling. Rodney was proving to be _good_ at this, and even though John was still disturbed that he'd given so much away, there was part of him that wanted to see how far Rodney would take it.

Pants undone, Rodney tugged them down as far as he could, effectively hobbling John, before cautiously untying one ankle. John held as still as he could as Rodney tugged his pants down and off that foot before rebinding him. Rather than untie the other foot, he just pulled John's jeans down as far as they would go.

He couldn't stop the comment of "Don't trust me, Rodney? I told you I'd be good." He tried to hide how unexpectedly hurt he was by that.

Rodney's head came up fast. "It's not that I don't trust you," he said. "It's that I don't see any reason to tempt you when I have better things to do than wrestle with you."

Before John could respond to that, Rodney tugged his own shirt up and off. The sight of Rodney's bare chest made John's mouth go dry. Rodney didn't seem to realize what he was doing to John, though. Instead of gloating, like John expected, he turned his attention to shoving his pants down his thighs.

He didn't give John time to admire his hard cock. He picked up the knife and climbed back on top of John, straddling his legs. His cock brushed against John's, making Rodney gasp. Rodney smiled. He placed the tip of the knife against the hollow of John's throat. "Now I suggest you don't move," he said.

As the blade was dragged down, John couldn't stop the whimper that broke free. The faint tendrils of pain threading through him told him that Rodney was pressing the knife just a little harder, and it ratcheted the pleasure up even further.

The knife followed a straight line down his chest, over his quivering belly, and down into the thick of his pubic hair. John had to force himself to keep breathing deep and even, and not jump, even as the tip circled his dick, which was hard enough to pound nails.

"I love how wet you get," Rodney said. "Precome just dripping off your cock." And yeah, John could feel it on his stomach, wet and cold. The knife paused in the space between dick and balls, and then started to trace the seam of his sac. "I want to be inside of you," Rodney said. "Fuck into you nice and deep. You want that? I'm going to fuck you face-to-face." John had to bite his lip at the thought.

Rodney shifted so that he was lying along John's side, placing the knife on the bed between John's legs. Twisting, he grabbed the lube off the nightstand. John watched greedily as he slicked up his fingers, only closing his eyes as Rodney slowly slid one inside of him. Since he wasn't watching, the feel of Rodney's lips against his own were a surprise, but he eagerly opened his mouth so that Rodney could slide his tongue inside John's mouth.

It felt like a long time as Rodney fingered and kissed him. He wasn't even trying to keep from moaning into Rodney's mouth. When Rodney added a second finger, he cried out. "Please, Rodney, please," he whimpered into Rodney's lips. "Just fuck me already."

"Patience," Rodney said, but he pulled his fingers out of John's ass and shifted so that he was kneeling between John's spread legs. But he wasn't anywhere near close enough to fuck John, a fact that John was all too aware of. When something hard and ungiving pressed against his hole, he cried out again. His eyes flew open in shock. It was the hilt of the knife, had to be, and as it inexorably slid inside, John groaned.

He'd never felt more vulnerable. Naked and bound, a knife's hilt buried in his ass and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He could feel the crosspiece of the hilt pressing against his perineum, which meant that the only part of the knife still outside of his body was the blade itself.

When Rodney started to fuck him with it, he had to fight to stay still as he could. "Rodney - " he said, a little scared and a lot turned on.

"Shh, John," Rodney said. "All you can do is accept it."

That was true, but it didn't change the fact that he had a _knife_ in his _ass_. He whimpered.

Rodney changed the angle, and now the hilt was pressing right into his prostate. "You know," Rodney said conversationally. "I've always wanted a toy to fuck you with. I wouldn't have thought of a knife, but it's really hot, even if I can't do it anywhere near as hard as you liked to be fucked." John whimpered again, thinking of why Rodney couldn't fuck him that hard - his grip on the blade would prevent it.

The knife twisted, and John groaned, pleasure racing through his veins. He was going to come if Rodney kept it up just a little... longer...

Except that Rodney was sliding the knife out of John. "No," he cried. "I'm so close!"

Rodney didn't say anything. There was the sound of the knife hitting the floor, and then John was blanketed with Rodney's body. Rodney was holding himself up with one hand while aiming his cock with the other. As he started to slide past the ring of muscle, John pushed down, trying to take him faster.

He obliged, sliding into place in one long stroke, and as Rodney bent his head to take John's mouth in a messy kiss, he started to _fuck_.

It wasn't the most comfortable position that John had ever been in - he couldn't bring up his legs to wrap them around Rodney's hips, so the angle was awkward - but his cockhead rubbed against Rodney's stomach with every thrust, and Rodney's cock pressed into his prostate. He yanked on the ropes, reminding himself that he was tied up securely.

Closing his eyes, he let everything wash over him, carrying him closer and closer to the edge. When Rodney broke the kiss to bite at John's neck, he whimpered and finally came, whiting out as pleasure washed through him.

Rodney fucked him right through his orgasm, making it last for what felt like forever. He didn't even notice Rodney's hands busy on the ropes holding his hands in place until the sudden release of pressure when it came untied.

John didn't hesitate, bringing his hands up and wrapping them around Rodney's back, scratching at the skin as Rodney continued to thrust. "C'mon, Rodney," he whispered. "Come for me, and I'll tie _you_ up."

With a roar, Rodney slammed into him two more times, and then came with such intensity that it looked like it hurt.

He stayed propped up on his hands, head hanging down between his shoulders as he twitched through the aftershocks. That was fine with John, who was still overwhelmed with his own orgasm. It had been everything that his fantasies had indicated, and then some.

Finally, Rodney slid out of John's body, kneeling between his thighs as he untied the ropes binding John to the bed. John waited until he was completely free before lunging up and knocking Rodney on his ass, tackling him to the bed. "Hey!" Rodney cried. "Delicate back here!"

"What, you didn't think there'd be consequences to tying me up like that?" John said.

"You enjoyed it!"

"I did," John said, and leaned his head down to kiss Rodney. "Thank you." He pulled back and smiled wickedly at Rodney. "But I'm going to get even with you tomorrow."

Rodney grinned right back.


End file.
